spin me till the sun falls
by The Next-Gen Fanatics
Summary: Dancing with you is magic. - MollyLysander drabbles
1. fireworks

**Disclaimer: None of these characters belong to any of the Next-Gen Fanatics.**

**This will be a drabble collection from the Drabble Tag on our forum, consisting solely of all the Molly/Lysander drabbles :)  
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><p><strong>prompt:<strong> fireworks  
><strong>writer:<strong> Aebbe

-:-

It's Bonfire Night and the huge communal fire is lighting everyone's faces in a hot orange glow.

"We shouldn't be here."

Her cheeks are pink and her eyes are sparkling, although she's trying to look stern, because she's a prefect after all.

He grins at her and grabs her hand.

"There's loads of things we shouldn't do, but we always do them anyway."

She blushes at the reminder.

"This is harmless," he points out, "It's just more fun to sneak out. And if we'd told them, they'd all have wanted to come too," he places his mouth very close to her ear and whispers, "and I want you all to myself."

She shivers and leans into him as the first firework explodes in a dizzying dance of green stars. And she wonders how Lysander always manages to make fireworks.

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	2. dark

**prompt:** dark  
><strong>writer:<strong> Renzhie

-:-

"Star shines in dark, guiding you when you are lost, and mesmerising you with its beauty." She says, looking at the sky, "Do you know that I think of him as my star?"

He knows that she isn't finished, so he doesn't reply. He just holds her hand gently, trying to soothe her.

"He shone brightly, clearing the darkness within me," She says softly, "but I am forgetting that star has a limit life too. It is getting darker everyday and you won't notice the change until it disappears, until you realise that its time is up."

She stops to take a deep breath before she continues, "I am used to its light that I forget how cold darkness is."

She bites her bottom lip as the tears fall down freely.

His hand reaches her face to wipe her tears, "Molly, do you know that every time a star is dead, there are thousand stars are born? Do you know that every single star which is born is brighter than last? You may not see the star brighter than _it_ now, but someday you will. Maybe, there is star out there waiting for you to realise its existence."

_Like me for an example_. He adds to himself.

He pulls her into hug and let her cry. It will take time to heal the wound, but he will wait.

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	3. history

**prompt:** history  
><strong>writer:<strong> Julia Claire

-:-

Molly had always been the smart one, the apple of their father's eye, but it wasn't like Lucy was jealous _(of course not)_, because who would care about _history books_ and _marks_ and _teachers_ when there were _boys_ around.

She was good with boys, even if she wasn't as pretty as Victoire or Dominique. Lucy dressed to kill, caked on make-up, and had spent hours perfecting her smirk in the mirror. Coupled with the mysterious, slightly frightening aura that screamed Slytherin, she'd never had any trouble finding boyfriends.

She loved that - she loved that she was so much better a flirt than Molly, who may have been a genius in the classroom, but was awkward and stuttering and lost around boys. And that, really, was why she set her sights on Lysander Scamander, not because she liked her all that much, but because Molly did.

He was cute, though, with his big blue eyes and brown curls, and she reckoned it would be easy to snag him, especially when Molly's longwinded rants on History of Magic - she always said the stupidest things around boys - seemed to impress him so much.

She made a point of interrupting there conversations, and pulling him away from her, ignoring the hurt in her sister's eyes. It worked, the first few times, and she thought Lucy was _in_, just another smirk awy from breaking her sister's heart, until she saw him holding hands with her sister in the corridor.

It wasn't like it broke her heart, or any such nonsense, but if Lucy hated anything, it was failure.

The next time she saw him in the corridor, alone, this time, she grabbed his hand and yanked him in an abandoned classroom, whispering his name before throwing himself at her, leaning in to kiss him,

He pushed her away. "What in the name of Merlin are you doing?"

"Don't you want to kiss me, Lysander?" she breathed, leaning in closer, her lips pouting slightly, expecting him to cave because they always have.

"I'm going out with your _sister_!"

She rolled her eyes. "So?"

He tore himself from her grip, stomping out of the classroom. "I'm leaving..."

"You're really choosing her?" she said, her voice raising itself into a screamed, shocked at his resistance. "Over _me_?"

He turned to look her in the eyes. "You're _mean_, Lucy."

The door slammed, and she tried to laugh at his feeble old insult, but somehow, it got lodged in her throat.

The Scamanders always told the truth.

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	4. follow me

**prompt:** follow me to another country  
><strong>writer:<strong> RoseScor90

-:-

It's been almost a month since I came away from England; from home. I still feel homesick sometimes, but it's gradually subsiding, or that's what I convince myself of. I don't even start every time I see a honey blond head. That's an improvement surely?

May be you'd understand better if you knew about the unwavering crush I've had on Lysander Scamander since I was thirteen. I'm eighteen now and still can't get over it. Pathetic much? But of course, you wouldn't understand why I like him so damn much! Because you see, even if I wanted to introduce you to him, I won't be able to. Why, you ask? Because I'm stuck at France while he decided to remain home, in England. Not that he ever said he'd come with me on my tour but, just saying. Oh, who am I kidding? He never sees me as anything more than his friend, and recently, his twin's girlfriend's sister. I think I preferred the first one.

Breakfast losing its appeal, I strode out of the café quickly. The beautiful city of Paris bloomed in spring flowers before me. It would be perfect, it should be perfect. But there was just one little piece of jigsaw that was missing from the picture…

"Molly!" I knew who it was even before I turned around, but I needed the visual confirmation because I couldn't be sure. What reason did Lysander Scamander have to be here, in the middle of France?

"Molly wait damn it!" he was almost running towards me now, which wasn't a difficult task, considering that the street was almost deserted. It was seven in the morning afterall.

I looked bewildered as he approached. I had to pinch myself to be sure that I wasn't dreaming. I admit, it could happen quite easily.

"Ly? What are you…" he raised a hand telling me to wait, panting from the run. When he stood up, I thought I saw a glimmer of what looked like affection glow in his face before that enchanting smile took its place.

"I came here to see you. I've been searching for you for almost a day now"

"You could have got the address from my parents or cousins, you know?"

"They'd have asked questions. News would have spread, to you. I wanted to be the first to tell you"

"Tell me what?" my heart was singing like a hummingbird with anticipation, but I could seem to be able to even bat an eyelash.

"I missed you like hell, Molly. You coming here taught me what I'd been ignoring all along. I...I like you. Will you be my girlfriend?"

I could feel my heartbeat skyrocket, but I didn't care. Lysander was asking me out, after all this time. All I could say was

"Yes! Of course yes, Ly!" and all I could do was laugh merrily as he spun me around in joy.

The day was perfect, with the two of us walking along the bridge, in early sunlight, holding hands.

Picture perfect.

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	5. classes

**prompt: **"just because I actually pay attention to classes doesn't mean I'm a nerd"

**writer:** Renzhie

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><p>"Just because I actually pay attention to classes doesn't mean I'm a nerd," she says calmly, though, her crystal blue eyes blazing with anger.<p>

"Relax, Molly. I am merely asking you," Lysander grins sheepishly, "you know, it's weird to hear that you know so much about fashion trends-"

"but yet, I don't follow them," Molly finishes the sentence, "I am happy with my own style. Is there any problem?"

_Yeah, you are too cute when you are angry, but that's beside the point_. Lysander resists the urge to kiss her, "No, there is no problem at all."

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	6. why is life cruel?

**prompt: **"why is life always cruel?"  
><strong>author: <strong>swirling-summernotes

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><p>She sighs, blowing a piece of red hair out of her face. She's sitting at the top of the hill at the Burrow, watching Teddy and Victoire giggle and laugh, Lily and Lorcan walking hand in hand towards the lake. Scorpius is sitting at the wooden picnic table with his arm around Dominique.<p>

All around her is love, love love.

"What's wrong, Molls?" Lysander approaches, and she looks up, her heart turning upside down and back again.

His bright green eyes are boring into her blue ones. "Nothing much. Just wondering why life is always so cruel."

He laughs at that, throwing his head back. "Must you always be so melodramatic, Molly?"

She glares, threading her fingers through the green grass. "Yes," she sniffs, focusing her gaze on the orangey pink sunset.

He sits down beside her. "Well, I'm glad. It makes me laugh." He reaches out and takes her hand in his.

Maybe life isn't so cruel to her after all.

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	7. death

**prompt: **death  
><strong>writer: <strong>RedCloakedMaiden

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><p>"I don't understand." Molly whispered.<p>

A pair of hands gently gathered her hair, like a child with a bouquet of geraniums newly plucked. They raised her hair up into a bun. "Don't understand what?"

She fidgeted, and smoothed out her black dress. "Why black dresses and sweetheart necklines go together. Why we bring flowers to a funeral—why do people _die_?"

And Lysander inclined his head now, to kiss her neck as she finished fastened her hair in place with shaking bobby pins. "Because you look beautiful in that dress."

"I know." Molly murmured. "But why? Flowers are for children, Valentine's day, lovers, secret messages…"

"One last message to our loved ones." Lysander whispered in her ear. "And their last message to us."

"What do we say and what do they say to us?"

He handed her a small bouquet of carnations, striped dark red and pink. "I say _I'm sorry I can't be with you, but I'll never forget you_." Lysander's hands closed over hers. "And the dead say to us, to plant them in the ground and watch the earth grow and we'll keep on living."

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	8. beautiful

prompt: you're beautiful just the way you are

author: jace-lightwood

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><p>Molly bites her lips as she stares at her reflection in the mirror. Plain. She looks at the make-up kit which is a gift from Lucy and cringes when she opens it.<p>

She is never the one who really cares for appearance. She is happy with powder and lip gloss only, but now when she is going to a date with Lysander, she thinks they are not enough.

She nearly jumps out of her skin when Lysander opens her bedroom's door.

"Ready?"

"No, I am not!" Molly turns around and hides her face.

Lysander walks to Molly's side and he lifts her chin, forcing her to look at his blue eyes, "You are beautiful just the way you are."

Molly is about to retort when he leans down and silences her with a deep kiss.

"Five more minutes. I'll wait outside," he says huskily, "or I won't be responsible for my action next."

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	9. now or never

**prompt:** now or never

**author:** matt-smiths

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><p>She looks at him seriously, her grey eyes ensnaring him as she holds her hand out. He can only look at it, wondering if he's brave enough to take it.<p>

"It's now or never, Ly," Molly says firmly as the wind whips her curls around her face. "We either do it or we don't."

The thing is, Molly doesn't take no for an answer and Lysander's never really had a choice. If Molly looks in his direction, Lysander finds himself agreeing to all the things he would never normally agree to.

He wraps his rough hand around hers, effectively giving her his answer and Molly lets out a laugh of delight, dragging him over to the shiny motorbike she's bought with her recently earned money.

Lysander climbs on behind her, muttering something about how her father's going to kill her. This elicts another throaty giggle from Molly as she jams the helmet on her head.

"Live a little," she replies as she climbs onto the bike and Lysander sits behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist and closing his eyes. He hates things like this.

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